


you are water, twelve feet deep

by pekoyamas



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Mental Health Issues, hehe they aren't orphans!, just smart boyz, sorryyyy, this is obnoxiously lower-case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 12:29:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20564363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pekoyamas/pseuds/pekoyamas
Summary: 'and i am boots made of concrete'matt is, in most ways, average.





	you are water, twelve feet deep

**Author's Note:**

> title from 'twelve feet deep' by the front bottoms

matt is, in most ways, average. he doesn’t really think he stands out, and he’s pretty sure anyone he’s ever met would agree. he’s not particularly attractive, but not unattractive either. somewhere in the middle, he guesses. 6/10? he doesn’t care either way, and that’s something he’s certain makes him slip between the cracks. no one gives a shit about him, and he doesn’t give a shit about anyone else either.

mello, though. matt is certain mello was born a star. he stands out in every possible way; mello is just generally exceptional. his bright hair, his quick wit, his brash personality. he’s a little rough around the edges, yeah, but matt just does not give a fuck. it makes him all the more attractive, even. it’s a little messy of matt, admittedly, to be turned on by mello’s conventionally unattractive qualities. mello disregards this fact entirely when they ‘hang out’, politely ignoring the way matt’ll turn away from whatever game he’s playing at the moment to listen to mello rant about how ‘fucking near is a fucking dickface’ for the fifth time that week. this, of course, all goes to shit on some random thursday afternoon. a thursday of no particular importance, no outstanding qualities. an average, middle of the week day.matt is high as fuck and sitting in his room. he thinks of ‘genius’ ideas he’ll forget when he’s sober and dreads having to do anything ever again. mello bursts in, his dark and leather clothes a stark contrast to his golden hair and matt laughs at him on sight. “you’re so fucking edgy, mello.” he says, in between violent laughter, and mello stares at him in silence with narrowed eyes.

“piss off, matt,” he sighs, flopping down onto the floor next to matt’s slouched form. matt passes him an unlit joint, and mello sneers at it. “not today, man.” matt shrugs with indifference. then his eyes catch on mello’s sharp cheekbones and bright blue eyes, and suddenly all he wants is mello, forever.

“fuck.” he exhales slowly, dragging a hand through his greasy and unbrushed hair. mello turns to face him.

“what?” he asks, tilting his head slightly with more concern matt thinks he’s ever seen him display.

“dude, i’m like…” he rolls his head back, and twists his hand in the air, searching for an answer. “definitely in love with you.” mello’s face slowly but surely burns red, and he turns stiffly to face the turned-off television in the corner of the room.

“oh. cool, i guess? i-“ he cuts himself off as he whips his head around to face matt again, searching for an answer in matt’s eyes. “like… are you sure?” matt nods awkwardly in confirmation. “ah, nice. cool. good. cool.” mello repeats, turning away again. “so!” he says, with an awkwardness matt has never seen in mello before, standing up slowly. “i’ll text you when i think you’re sober.” he continues, and matt can only nod in silence. ‘he’s gorgeous’, he thinks.

* * *

matt is sober and life is still fucking boring. day in and day out, it’s the same routine. mello texts him, yeah, but it’s more of a ‘you good?’ than a ‘so, about that confession…’. matt doesn’t really know which one he would have preferred. he skips class the next day, sitting in bed all day until he runs out of cigarettes, and even then only goes downstairs to nick some off of his dad. if he notices, he doesn’t say anything about it. they live in silence, no concern or care for the other, ignoring the abnormality of their relationship. he didn’t even know it was weird when he was younger. it’s not like he had anyone to compare it to. then, of course, mello had burst into his life with his snide comments and judgements and he is still most definitely the rudest person matt thinks he’s ever fuckin’ met. when he mentioned this to him, back when matt was 12 and mello was 13, he had dared to be offended. ‘what the fuck, matt?’ he had said, spluttering and shocked. matt had shrugged in response

‘i don’t know, dude, you’re just like… mean.’ he had replied, and mello had stared at him like his explanation made no sense. in mello's defence, it was more of a reiteration than a reason.

‘i’m honest!’ he yelled. ‘would you rather i lied about how shitty your haircut looks?’ he continued, pointing at the fucking mess that was matt’s hair. matt had always found it hypocritical of him, that not only could he not even remotely take criticism, but also that he looked a lot like he-man. that part, matt kept to himself. he might appreciate the honesty, but mello sure fucking wouldn’t. 

matt sometimes laughs at the fact that mello, despite his innate intelligence, is sometimes the dumbest person matt knows. matt keeps this to himself, too, because he knows mello will take it the wrong way. mello uses every criticism as reasoning to hate himself, but will immediately use it to lash out at whoever said it in the first place. he’ll pick fights with anyone, really, as an outlet for his emotions. sometimes, mello will drag matt out of the house, and force him to follow him around. matt always has more fun than he expects. he kind of wishes mello would take him out again.

* * *

matt hasn’t seen mello in days now, much longer than usual. matt doesn’t leave the house at all, skipping classes every day until it’s the weekend and he doesn’t get up then either. the days blend together and he spends every waking moment gaming, like the good for nothing teenager he is. matt is average and uncool and unpopular, and he also doesn’t care at all. no one texts him when he doesn’t show up, and he wouldn’t have responded even if they did. he thinks about messaging mello, though, weighs up the pros and cons, decides against it. he knows he should reach out, but he doesn’t. why bother?

* * *

near rings him at 5 in the morning on a tuesday. “come to school.” he says.

“what?” matt replies, groggily.

“come to school.” he repeats. then he hangs up, and matt stares at his phone in silent confusion.

* * *

matt assumes that near means ‘come to school later on, during actual operational hours’ and not ‘come to school right now’, but he shows up an hour early anyway. he hasn’t showered in a week and hasn’t brushed his teeth for twice that. he looks like shit, he knows, but near slides up next to him without mentioning it. mello would have. will, when he sees him. “matt.” near says, looking up. matt looks down at him awkwardly, unsure of how to respond. he doesn’t have to. “i think you need to talk to mello.” he finishes, and walks away. matt stands there in silence. ‘is that all?’, he thinks, ‘i came to school so he could say 9 words to me?’. matt is already here though and trudges slowly towards the school bathrooms to smoke the last cigarette he has, mostly just to pass the time.

* * *

matt spots mello in third period. it’s not that surprising, matt knows they have maths together, and mello loves to learn. it’s something matt doesn’t really get. he’s not that great at paying attention. mello spots him standing awkwardly behind a desk. “what the fuck, dude?” he asks, and matt doesn’t have an answer. again, he shrugs. mello slaps him hard on the arm.

“that was like… very uncalled for.” matt responds, rubbing his already bruising arm. matt can almost feel the rage now bubbling off of mello.

“why didn’t you call me? or talk to me at all? or like, i don’t know, come to fucking school?” mello asks, but all it evokes in matt is somewhat bitter amusement. it comes out as a choked laugh, and mello hits him again.

“what does it even matter, man? who fucking cares?” he replies, and though it is rhetorical, matt wonders. near showed basic concern, yeah, but it was much more for mello than matt. “who _fucking_ cares?” he spits, this time filled with resentment. he wants to leave right then, leave and never return, wants to throw his phone in the fucking ocean and move to new zealand. 

mello grabs matt’s face, tilting it towards him.

“i fuckin’ care, alright?” he says, annoyance present on his face. “i-“ and matt feels hope spark in his chest for a second, feels it fill the hole in his chest, but it flows right back out again just as fast as it arrived. “you’re my best friend.” he settles on, and matt doesn’t know much about what’s happening but he knows that was the wrong answer. his lips twitch downwards, he feels it, and he’s sure mello notices.

“i’m goin’ home.” he says, walking out of the room, out of the school, is halfway home when he realises ‘fuck, dude, that was a dick move!’

* * *

mello calls when matt doesn’t show up the next day, and matt wants to answer, he really does, but he can’t bring himself to go through with it. ‘you’re a coward,’ he thinks, ’but when did i start referring to myself as you?’ and then everything should click and make sense and everything will be fixed and fine forevermore, but it’s not what happens. matt laughs to himself, or at himself, and then he falls asleep and wakes up to the sound of mello bursting into his room. ‘like a shooting star.’ he jokes to himself. mello is unimpressed at matt’s stupid and pathetic form, he can tell. he sits down next to him and smiles sadly.

“you’re fucked up, matty.” he whispers, and it’s so true it’s fucking painful. matt frowns deeply, rolling onto his side away from mello. he rubs soothing circles into his back. “i’m sorry, i am, really.” he says, and matt doesn’t know if that’s true, has never heard an honest apology from mello in his entire life.

“why?” he asks. a single word.

“what?” mello asks, stopping his hand’s motion.

“why?”

“why what?”

“…don’t worry.”

“okay.”

* * *

mello tries to make matt go to a psychologist. matt goes, for him. his dad pays for it when matt tells him he wants to go, but he doesn’t try to go with him. they diagnose him with a bunch of bullshit he doesn’t care about and gets referred to a psychiatrist. he goes then, for mello still. they give him medication and he flushes all of it down the toilet because he’s fine, it’s fine, he doesn’t care.

* * *

mello doesn’t ask about his medication and matt’s fucking glad, he doesn’t want to talk about it. still though, he doesn’t ask and matt wonders, ‘does he even care? he’d ask if he cared.’ and it's fucking hard sometimes, but that’s life, and he doesn’t care so why should anyone else?

* * *

“matt.”

“mmm?”

“i love you.”

“what the fuck?!”

* * *

matt handles mello’s confession extremely poorly. ‘at least i was sober,’ mello jokes. matt doesn’t really believe it, to be honest, has never even been loved by the people that fucking created him. why should this exceptional boy, this star of a human, love someone who doesn’t even care about himself? matt thinks he’s pretty smart, yeah, but he does not understand anything about this at all. a permanent state of ‘what the fuck?’, he thinks. 

* * *

mello handles learning of matt’s medication disposal extremely poorly. they get into a fairly one-sided argument, considering matt just sits there in silent self-loathing as mello rants on and on about how disappointed he is in him. he leaves and matt cries into his pillow. he doesn’t go to school the next day, or the day after, or even the day after that. mello shows up halfway into the third day. matt is shocked to see him skipping school. matt is shocked to see him at all. he stands up when mello walks in, and he shuffles his feet and looks at the floor. “i’m sorry.” he mumbles, and mello holds him tight. he kisses him on the forehead.

“i just- i just want you to take care of yourself, y’know?” he says, and matt nods silently against his chest. “i’m sorry.” he says.

“don’t be sorry, it’s my fault.” he whispers. mello doesn’t respond.

* * *

matt goes to school every day for a week. it’s the first time in months he’s done so. matt’s as surprised about it as everyone else.mello buys him lunch for it, and matt decides to make it a habit.

* * *

near approaches him the next wednesday. “you should join the robotics club.” he says. matt looks down at him quizzically.

“there’s a robotics club?” he asks. near nods his head.

“yes. you should join.” he walks away, and matt finds himself going and enjoying it. he talks to some nerds that are there, and they make a fucking sick robot. it’s the most people he’s spoken to all year. he leaves with 5 new friends and an invitation to a get together at one of their houses next tuesday. he goes to that, too. when he tells mello about his day, he smiles. he doesn’t even mention his hatred for near.

* * *

matt stops smoking, and he studies for the maths exam. he aces it. he finishes the english essay early and actually hands it in for feedback. the teachers stare at him with raised eyebrows when he suddenly becomes a straight-A student with perfect attendance, but he ignores it. ‘whatever,’ he thinks, staring at his phone and waiting for mello outside of the library. ‘i don’t care.’ mello comes out with his bag over his shoulder. “sup, loser?” he asks. matt looks up and smiles, putting his phone away.

“not much, nerd.” they walk home like that, laughing and happy and carefree. matt slings an arm around his shoulder as mello talks and talks, listening with more care than he’d ever give his classwork.

* * *

matt doesn’t care about school. he tries now, yeah, gets good grades and has fun fucking around with the science nerds, but he’s not a learner. not like near and mello. he does what he has to, finishes the year with a glowing report he leaves on the dining room table in case his dad wants to look at it, has a small party with the robotics kids and tries to get mello to not be such an ass to near. he takes his meds and makes shitty jokes that mello will laugh at and pretend he didn’t. he’s happy, he thinks.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @craigfuckers
> 
> matt is my favourite dn character, despite his... uh... lack of appearances. i didn't really know how to characterise him but i tried and that's what matters!


End file.
